


Formalwear

by akire_yta, artemisscribe



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Marriage Proposal, Secret Crush, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisscribe/pseuds/artemisscribe
Summary: Kayo doesn't get dressed up often, but when she does she always takes Scott's breath away.





	1. Lengha

Scott’s jaw hit his knees and Kayo scowled.  “Don’t say a _word_ ,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

John glanced up from his book.  “You look...nice, Kayo.”  John had been trying on civilized human interaction the way he tried on a new math theorem; cautiously, testing each step for fault or flaw in execution.  “Nice….” he waved his hands in the vague direction of his neck.  “Earrings.”

But his was an entirely neutral gaze that bounced off her harmlessly.  “Thank you, John,” she answered sweetly, favouring him with a warm smile before returning to glare at Scott, whose eyes were almost bugging out of his head.

“Kayo, wow, I mean….”

The skirt swished across her legs as she stormed across the Tracy’s living room and grabbed his ear.  She’d take him by the lapels, maybe dangle him off the balcony, but he was already annoyingly perfect in a tux, and she’d probably get yelled at for wrinkling the fabric.

The surprised yelp he made as she twisted her grip at least shattered the illusion of adulthood Scott was suddenly projecting.  She’d gone away to boarding school in Europe leaving behind Scott her bro, and she’d come back to this dapper, perfect _asshole_ who looked so much more mature than eighteen.  “I said,” she hissed at him.  “Not. One. Word.”

Scott almost capered backwards out of her range as soon as she let go.  “I was trying to pay you a compliment,” he almost whined.  His gaze flickered down, just for a second, to her bare midriff, and Kayo felt a flush of hot, prickly embarrassment.

She hid it with a stomp of her delicately shod foot, turned in a flourish of skirts, and went to sit with John until it was time to leave for the gala.

John was safe.  He didn’t make her feel all off balance in a way that was more than these heels, didn’t make her skin prickle and her mouth dry in that perfect, perfect tux.

Scott beat a hasty retreat, pausing at the door to take a clandestine last longing look at the bare shoulder before he made his escape.


	2. Kebaya

“I need help!” Kayo calls from the walk-in closet of what is quickly becoming ‘their’ room.

Scott ducks his head round the door, toothbrush still in his mouth,

“Hmm?”

Kayo is stood in the middle of the room, hair perfect, make up done, gold and gems at her throat and ears, sliding her feet into a pair of heels so high that they put her nose to nose with Scott.

“The shoes?” he asks,

“No dummy!” Kayo sighs, gesturing down the length of her body as she stands up, “With my outfit.”

“Well what’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” Scott deadpans, trying his hardest to look innocent as she glares at him. So far all Kayo has on is a semi-sheer cream slip that finishes just above her knee.

“You know I can kill you with one of these shoes right?” Kayo chides, still scowling as Scott laughs, quickly ducking back into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out before coming back to her.

“Don’t frown, babe” he says, kissing the little crease between her eyebrows, “You’ll get wrinkles.”

“And they’ll be your fault,” she warns him pressing a fold of fabric into his hands.

Scott looks at the fine batik fabric and then glances at his watch,

“I know I’m better than I was with these things,” he says, “But do we have time to get you into a sari?”

“This isn’t a sari,” Kayo corrects, giving the fabric a tug to unfurl it, “I’m wearing a kebaya tonight.”

Scott looks between the fabric in his hands and the worried look on Kayo’s face and puts the pieces together.

“You didn’t tell me your dad was coming tonight.”

“Because you always tell me I’m getting worked up over nothing,” Kayo admits, “And I wanted to fret in peace.”

“You are getting worked up over nothing,” Scott laughs as he helps Kayo to arrange and tie her Kain Batik into a skirt, “Your dad doesn’t care what you wear, he’s just happy to see you.”

“Fine then,” Kayo says, adjusting the way the Kain falls while Scott ties it firmly in place. “But my culture is still important to me.”

“And it should be,” Scott says, stepping back to look her up and down. He gives a little nod of satisfaction that everything is in the right place, “I mean at least you’ve got a culture worth celebrating, all I’ve got is corn husks and meth labs.”

Kayo snorts with derision as she picks up the lace kebaya blouse,

“Don’t let your grandmother hear you talk about Kansas like that,” she warns, “She’s old but she’ll still defend the homeland fiercely. Pass me my kerongsang would you?”

“Which one’s that again?” Scott asks

“The broach thingy on the dressing table” Kayo says, pointing vaguely at the table.

Scott crosses the room and picks it up,

“No!” Kayo corrects him, “That’s a hair clip. The kerongsang is the three broaches that are chained together.”

Scott puts down the hairpin and picks up the other piece of jewellery on the dressing table, checking for Kayo’s harassed nod before he comes back over to her. She goes to take it from him but he brushes her hand away,

“No, no,” he says, putting the supporting chain of the kerongsang around her neck, “Let me.”

Kayo nods and smiles at him as she arranges the blouse how she wants it, holding it in place so that Scott can carefully pin it shut.

“This was my grandmother’s,” she says softly, running her fingers over the delicate gold filigree of the broach, “It’s really the only thing I’ve got of hers.”

“It’s beautiful,” Scott says as he fastens the final pin in place, “Like you.”

Kayo smiles as he kisses her, but he sees there’s sadness behind her eyes.

“It would have been her birthday next week,” she says.

“Ah,” Scott says, he remembers the worn old photograph he’s seen of Kayo’s grandmother that sits in Kyrano’s house, back from when Kyrano himself was small, “So that’s why you’re in a flap about your dad visiting.”

“They were really close,” Kayo says, fiddling with the kerongsang as an excuse not to look Scott in the eye, “And you know how he isolates himself, I’m just worried.”

“Hey,” Scott says, gently tilting her chin up so that her eyes meet his, “He’s your dad, it’s his job to worry about you, not your job to worry about him.”

She smiles at him, a proper smile this time, and shrugs.

“You’re right,” she says, “Just a daughter’s prerogative I suppose.”

“Well I wouldn’t know,” Scott quips as he shrugs on his dinner jacket, “I don’t have any daughters.”

Kayo narrows her eyes at him as she brushes down his lapel,

“Is that a hint?” she asks suspiciously.

“Just practice,” he replies, “You’re Dad’s gonna spend half the night dropping hints about grandkids.”

“And the other half dropping hints about marriage,” Kayo sighs as Scott takes her hand to lead her out of the bedroom.

“Hmm,” he says with a mischievous grin as they cross the landing, “Now _that_ sounds like a pretty good idea.”

Kayo freezes as they reach the top of the stairs. Scott however lets go of her hand and keeps going.

“What do you mean by that?” she calls after him, but he plays deaf and keeps going on his merry way down the stairs to meet his brothers, “Scott! _Scott!_ ”

He grins to himself as he hears her curse under her breath and follow after him. Tonight’s the night. He’s got a ring box in his breast pocket and a future father-in-law who’s flown in specially for the occasion.

Oh yes. Tonight is the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We headcanon Kayo as Indo-Malaysian which means she draws from a number of different cultures and forms of traditional dress from Saris to Lenghas through to the classic Malaysian Kebaya (although of course Kayo favours very modern interpretations of all three)


End file.
